


It Hurts

by 1creativeusernameplease



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Eleven & Jack Friendship, Eleven being nice and comforting, Guilty Jack, Ianto is dead, M/M, Post CoE, Sad Jack, Stopwatch, Uh slight AU I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 11:18:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17559371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1creativeusernameplease/pseuds/1creativeusernameplease
Summary: After Ianto dies, Jack is left to deal with his feelings alone.





	It Hurts

Jack climbed down the ladder to his bunker. When his feet touched the floor he stood there motionless for a few minutes. His body was still recovering from his last resurrection. It didn’t usually feel like this. It was more painful this time. He vaguely remembered fighting to stay in the darkness, trying to hold on to death, before breath violently filled his lungs and he was thrust back into life. Without him. He had opened his eyes, and for the first time in many months, Ianto had not been looking down at him in concern and relief. He had come back alone and cold.

He shivered. He was always cold. He had hypothesized a long time ago that his body temperature never fully got the memo that he wasn’t still dead. It was the main reason he wore his great coat in all means of unreasonable weather. One thing that did always warm him up was coffee. Ianto had made the best coffee in the entire universe. He reached for his blue and white striped mug on the bedside table from days ago and his chest began to constrict.

“God…” he whispered. How was he going to recover from this if looking at a coffee mug made him feel this way? He forcefully replaced the coffee mug back on his bedside table and began pacing his room. He had remained as stoic as he could for Gwen in the aftermath. He hadn’t cried yet, but this aching had not relented for a moment.

His shuffled footsteps lead him around the length of his quarters. His eyes fell on one of Ianto’s suits hanging from the wardrobe. It was one of his favorites, the red and gray striped tie hung around the lapels, the trousers neatly pressed ready for the next day at work.   
Jack came to a halt and felt his hands run through his hair as hysteria bubbled to the surface. 

“Oh God,” he choked out, tears welling in his eyes. He surged forward and grabbed the tie, holding it out away from his body like a prized possession. He backed up and dropped onto his bed, finally letting the grief completely and utterly consume him. Tears fell on the silk tie in his lap. He was going to ruin it, but Ianto wasn’t there to admonish him. 

Jack barely registered the great moaning, wheezing sound to his left. He didn’t look up when he heard the TARDIS door creak open or frown when he heard an unfamiliar voice.

“What’s gotten into you old girl? You stop acting up!” The TARDIS groaned. “Oh alright! Where have you brought me then? Oh.”  
Jack looked up then and his reddened eyes took in what was before him. A young man in tweed jacket and braces had become quite still as he realized where he was. After a moment he seemed to recover, straightening his bow tie and taking a tentative step forward. 

Jack sighed and wiped his eyes. “Hello, Doctor.”

The Doctor glanced around the room imperceptibly talking in the two pillows, the suit on the wardrobe, the tie in Jack’s hands.

“Hello, Jack,” the Doctor said softly, his usual exuberant demeanor muted by his friend’s apparent grief.

Jack’s fists clenched and he drew in a large breath, trying to gather enough courage for what he was about to say.

“I hope you’ve come to tell me there’s a cure.”

The Doctor slumped. 

“A cure?”

“Have you found a way to kill me?” Jack asked in earnest his eyes pleading but there was no hope there. He already knew the answer. It broke the Doctor’s hearts. 

“No, Jack,” he uttered, “there’s no fixing you. I-”

“Then why are you here!” Jack nearly shouted, anger finding a foothold. “What reason could you possibly have? It’s clearly been some time for you!” He gestured vaguely at his new, unfamiliar body. “So why have you come back now. You can’t even stand the sight of me, you said it yourself! I’m unnatural, a freak of nature, your subconscious rejects my very existence!” His eyes glared into ancient ones, searching for an answer. 

The Doctor swallowed hard, ashamed he had said those things to one of his best friends. He had always been a bit harsh in his last regeneration. 

“I suspect,” he began softly, moving to gradually sit next to him on his bed, “that your connection to the TARDIS had some influence on my trajectory. She sensed your … grief. Perhaps she thought I could help.” He paused. “She’s never wrong, you know.”

“Well there’s a first time for everything because you can’t help,” he spat bitterly. “Not this time. You can’t swoop in and save the day because it’s done. He’s dead. It’s a fixed point.”

The Doctor watched him carefully and realized he’d never seen him like this. He was always flirting or saving the day. Yes, he knew he had suffered hardships, they all had, but he had never seen his friend so utterly desolate. 

“Tell me what happened.”

Jack barked out a laugh so devoid of mirth it was chilling. He shook his head. “No,” he mumbled, “no I - I can’t-”

“What was his name?”

Jack stilled then wrapped the tie around his left hand reverently. “Ianto,” he breathed, “Ianto Jones.” 

The Doctor gave him a moment to recover. “What was he like?”

Jack licked his lips and looked up at the ceiling trying to stay the tears gathering in his eyes. He took another deep breath and let it out slowly. 

“He was naive,” he began softly, slowly. “He was quiet, reserved, organized, patient. He was wicked smart, quick on his feet, could do maths perfectly all in his head. He was a smart ass, too. Never missed an opportunity to show his wit.” He smiled a little at the memories of their flirtatious banter. It faded quickly. “I think he had a little OCD. Very neat. Everything always needed to be tidy. And he was a stickler for paperwork, too.” Jack glanced at his mug again. “And he made the best goddamn coffee you have ever tasted. He had the highest score on our marksman test. He was allergic to blueberries and horses. He was also really depressed when I met him. He was at Canary Wharf. One of the few survivors. He lost his girlfriend there.”

The Doctor winced remembering what he lost that day as well.

“And God was he cute. I mean absolutely gorgeous. That’s why I hired him at first, you know. I told him so constantly. He said he was going to report me to HR.” Jack chuckled. “He called me sir during the work day. . . and with his tailored suits. . . God, he was so sexy.”

The Doctor blushed. 

“He was stubborn as hell. I would tell him to wait in the car and he’d be joining me being chased through the alleys five seconds later. But he was loyal, too. He was so unbearably loyal it got him into trouble too many times. He knew me so well. He knew when to give me space, when to sit with me and have a drink, when to absolutely shag me senseless. He was always there for me.

“After he found out about my immortality he didn’t run from me or envy me like a lot of others…” Jack paused. He didn’t need to think about the others right now. “After he found out he was there every time he could. He was there every time I came back. He said he was scared that maybe this was going to be the time I didn’t come back. That it was going to be permanent this time. He always kept a stopwatch to time me. He told me it was for the records but I know it was just for him.” Jack looked the Doctor in the eyes for a second then turned them back to the floor. “It was one of the kindest things he ever did for me. Just to be there when I woke up. It’s always disorienting and cold and usually, it still hurts from whatever killed me. But when he was there, with my head in his lap. . . I would wake up and he would wrap his arms around me and if there wasn’t a nearby adversary, he would kiss me and take me home and make me coffee. I got a little used to it. Coming back wasn’t so bad, and now-” Fresh tears fell from the immortal's bowed head. “When I woke up he wasn’t there to comfort me. He was lying dead right next to me.”

Jack brought the neck tie up to his nose to smell his lover’s cologne. It was five minutes before he spoke again. “He was twenty-six years old.” Jack’s blue eyes met the Doctor’s ancient green ones. “He was twenty-six. He should have been out with his friends at the pub, finding a nice girl to settle down with, not falling in love with a selfish immortal who can’t even say the words as his lover is dying in his arms!”

Jack cried out in a full out a sob, his anguish and shame finally coming to a head. The Doctor took his friend's hand and rubbed his back with the other, staying silent.

“He was lying in my arms, dying, and he said ‘I love you’ and do you know what I said? I said ‘Don’t. Please just stay with me.’” The captain’s eyes blazed with guilt, his voice shaking. “I hadn’t said those words in 400 years and when I really meant them I said ‘don’t,’” He gasped like he couldn’t get enough oxygen. His eyes darted around the room searching. His voice came out loud and harsh when he spoke again. “What the hell is wrong with me? What is so wrong inside me that I can’t say ‘I love you’ to my goddamn soulmate?”

The Doctor squeezed his hand. “By the way you talk about him, I’m sure he knew.”

Jack ripped his hand away as if the comment burned him and buried it in his hair. He tried to slow his breathing.

“I just . . . didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t want him to go. I thought we had a few more years at least.” The captain shook his head and wiped his eyes. “I thought I’d prepared myself. I knew this was inevitable . . . for Christ’s sake, Ianto knew it, too. I wasn’t ready to give him up yet. I’m was too selfish and I squandered our time together. And it… it hurts Doctor. More than being vaporized, more than poison, more than being tortured for a year at the hands of the Master.”

The Doctor wiped a tear from his friend’s cheek with his thumb and tried to trample his own guilt. 

“Doctor, how old are you now?”

“One thousand two hundred and seven,” the Time Lord sighed.

“Do you still remember your family on Gallifrey?” His question came out like a sheepish child’s.

The Doctor fiddled with his bow tie nervously and swallowed the lump in his throat. “On the days that I allow myself, yes.”

A spark of hope glinted in Jack’s eyes. “Do you think… with my human genealogy that I’ll be able to remember Ianto in a thousand years. I promised- I promised I would never forget him. It’s the last thing he heard and I…” he trailed off. 

The Doctor looked at him thoughtfully. “There is a chance that your brain has the capacity.” He paused, weighing his options. “Would you like to be 100% sure?”

The captain looked at him with pleading eyes, hope pooling with his tears. “Can you do that?” 

“You understand that you will always be able to remember him. This pain that you feel, it will always-”

“I promised him, Doctor,” Jack said with finality. 

“Alright,” he nodded, “focus on what you want to remember.” The Doctor gently placed his fingertips on the man’s temples and focused his energy on making his friend’s memories permanent. He tried not to intrude on them too much but when the deed was done his eyes were misty. 

“Thank you,” Jack whispered. He hadn’t looked at him like that in 300 years, full of awe and gratitude. He wanted to see more of it. 

“Jack would you like to stay on the TARDIS for a little while, you know,” he added hastily, trying to downplay his eagerness to have his friend by his side once again, “just until you’re ready to get back on your feet.” 

Jack answered with a small smile. “Just let me get one thing.” He stood shakily and crossed the room the small desk. He opened the drawer and pulled out Ianto’s old golden stopwatch. He turned and nodded. He was ready. 

Together they entered the TARDIS.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first fanfiction, so constructive criticism is welcome.


End file.
